


Any Time (Flashbacks)

by amethystfox



Series: I Could Live a Little More [2]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Aldertonghen, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub, Everyone is Poly Because Spurs, Flashbacks, Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, M/M, POV: Jan, Spanking, Submissive Jan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-19 06:21:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22539931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amethystfox/pseuds/amethystfox
Summary: January 2016Before Paulo ever came to Spurs, Jan found himself in need...
Relationships: Toby Alderweireld/Jan Vertonghen
Series: I Could Live a Little More [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621807
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Any Time (Flashbacks)

23 January 2016  
South London

  
  


Jan sat down heavily on the bench and put his head in his hands. He didn’t look at any of his teammates moving past him, and none of them tried to speak to him. He knew that eventually they would get past this and forgive him-- at least if they managed to turn it around in the second half and win-- but he couldn’t even begin to see clear to ever forgive himself.

It had been a stupid move, and he knew it. He’d been eager to block the cross, get it away from their goal, but he had misjudged the angle, and the ball had ricocheted off his boot, right past a surprised Hugo, into the net.

And it was against _Crystal fucking Palace_ too. They’d been shit recently, and Spurs were on the rise, having won four of the last six league games. Palace, in contrast, hadn’t scored at all in their last five games. _Not until here comes Jan Vertonghen to fuck up and give them a goal from his own stupid boot._ The image of the Palace supporters cheering, the players celebrating, at the exact moment Jan had wished the pitch could open up and swallow him whole, was unbearable.

The squad wasn’t even really talking to each other, Jan realised, hearing how quiet the changing room was. There were a couple of murmurs in voices that Jan couldn’t really make out, but none of the usual camaraderie, no banter, no laughter.

_And it’s all my fault. If we lose this game, it’ll be all my fault. If we start a downward slide off this loss, it’ll be all my fault. If Poch decides to sell me off, it’ll be all my fault. If I don’t get any more national call-ups, it’ll be all my fault. Some defender I am._

He was breathing raggedly, intent on keeping his misery from overflowing into tears-- that would be just too much, the final humiliation. Jan was, in theory, just about at the peak of his career. He was twenty-eight, had been with Spurs for more than three years and was a regular in the starting XI, and had been capped by Belgium more than fifty times. He refused to cry because of one fuckup.

Jan was still looking at the floor, blinking steadily to keep the tears at bay, when he noticed a shadow blocking the light, and a pair of white boots in front of him, with neon yellow clad legs rising from them.

He sighed. “Please just go away,” he said in French.

 _"Non,"_ was the quiet answer.

“I don’t think you’re going to be able to say anything to me that I haven’t already said to myself. So please, just leave me alone.”

Hugo sat down beside him and put an arm around his shoulders. “Jan, you’re being too hard on yourself. It was just a mistake. We all make them. What matters is that we go back out there in the second half and destroy them. And we need you in order to do that.”

Jan shook his head. “Do we? I think Palace probably needs me out there more.”

“Stop. Look at me.”

Jan’s stomach twisted, in a not entirely unpleasant way, at the note of command in Hugo’s soft voice. Hugo had only been captain since the beginning of the season, but it was plain to see he was well suited to the role, in spite of his normally mild demeanor. Jan raised his head without even being aware of it. Sometimes his need to obey became an automatic response.

Hugo’s eyes, usually so gentle and soulful, were hard as flint. “You are one of our finest defenders, especially when you work with Toby. You are vice-captain of this squad. Poch knows your worth. We all do. But you cannot let one mistake rattle you like this. Are you still a boy at your academy? Or are you Super Jan Vertonghen?”

Jan’s face hardened. “Of course I’m not a boy anymore,” he snapped.

“Good. Then square your shoulders and come back out there with us and help us make Crystal Palace pay for benefiting from this mistake.”

Jan nodded, standing. He could do this. He could go out there, head held high, and do his job. He had to. For the club, for his teammates, for himself.

  
  
  
  


***

The second half did go better for Spurs than the first had. Harry Kane managed to equalise eighteen minutes in and the squad were playing with their usual fire again. 

But Jan was not. A whisper in the back of his mind had begun as soon as he had put his foot out and watched in horror as he deflected the ball into the net. He had hoped that Hugo’s pep talk at the half would silence it, but as play went on it only became more insistent. 

_You fucked up, you need to be punished, you deserve to be punished. You fucked up, you need to be punished…_

He was becoming more and more distracted, he knew, and it was obvious to the team and to Poch as well. He couldn’t even bring himself to be surprised when a whistle blew and he found himself being substituted off. He jogged to the sideline, gave Wimmer the usual high five before the Austrian ran out to replace him, and took his place on the bench next to Michel. His friend tried to say something to him, but Jan just shook his head. He couldn’t listen to any more consolation right now.

The whisper in his head had grown to an insistent chant now. _You fucked up. You need to be punished. You_ **_deserve_ ** _to be punished._

Jan was only about half-able to pay attention to the rest of the game. He cheered at the appropriate moments, and was actually genuine in his joy when Dele put them ahead with a truly spectacular volley. But as soon as play resumed again and the brief euphoria had subsided, he was back to berating himself.

_You fucked up! You need to be punished!_

_I can’t!_ He screamed back silently at that persistent voice. _I can’t. Sophie can’t do it and I don’t have anyone else._

_She said you could._

_Just because she's okay with it doesn't mean I have anyone I can trust like that._

A fresh wash of misery swept over him at that private admission. He didn’t usually let himself think about just how badly he missed being dominated. He hadn’t had anyone to do it for him in almost ten years now. For the most part, he was able to get by without it just fine. Sometimes he was even able to forget how wonderful it had been, being able to trust somebody like that, enough to yield up absolutely everything, if only for a little while. Sophie had tried, but just couldn’t manage it.

It was even more rare that he felt this specific need, this eagerness to be punished. He supposed it was a good reflection on his life and his career, that he didn’t feel that he had transgressed _this_ badly more often.

 _You_ **_deserve_ ** _to be punished! You FUCKED UP!_

At last the final whistle blew. He was aware that they had won, but not of any of the details. He headed down the tunnel to the changing room immediately, not staying to celebrate at all, completely unwilling to face the press.

In the shower, he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to overcome it by sheer force of will. His teeth clenched and he was actually growling at himself out loud, swearing at himself in Dutch, clenching his fists tightly enough that his nails digging into his palms nearly drew blood.

It didn’t help, though, and he had to stop when the others began to come in to take their showers. He finished as quickly as he could, dressed without talking to anyone, and boarded the coach immediately, intending to find a corner somewhere he could stay away from the other lads. He didn’t think he could handle trying to talk to anyone right now.

And for the most part, his teammates seemed to sense that and gave him the space he needed. He knew that they had already begun to forgive him, the victory clearing away any anger or resentment they might have held on to if they’d lost. He knew them well enough to see that they were leaving him alone because they knew that was what he needed.

But not Toby.

His friend didn't bother to soften his approach, or give any other sign that he could tell Jan was upset. He came and found Jan and plopped down on the seat next to him, just as he always did on the coach. Usually Moussa, Michel, and Nacer were there too, but Toby seemed unperturbed by the fact that he found Jan isolated from his friends.

"Go away, Toby," Jan grumbled at him in Dutch.

Toby ignored him, pulling his phone out of his pocket and scrolling through Instagram.

"Toby," Jan said, a little louder this time.

Toby just grunted in reply.

“Go away.” Jan elbowed Toby this time, rougher than he really meant to.

“No,” Toby growled, elbowing him back.

“Go _away,”_ Jan said through gritted teeth, shoving at his friend.

 _“No.”_ Toby firmly planted his feet on the floor of the coach and crossed his arms. Jan saw his jaw jut out stubbornly.

“Toby, just-- ugh, please just fucking leave me alone,” Jan whispered, still trying to push Toby away. His eyes were burning. His throat was painfully tight.

“No.” Toby’s voice was gentler this time, though his jaw was still thrust out at Jan.

Jan couldn’t answer this time. If he tried to speak, he knew the tears would fall. He hugged himself around the waist and pushed at Toby with his shoulder.

Toby took this as his cue to put his arm around Jan and squeeze him tight. Jan struggled briefly, but gave it up. He and Toby were almost exactly the same size, but Toby was stronger and they both knew it.

Jan’s chest constricted. He knew Toby cared about him, even if he almost never said so. But Toby didn’t know the real reason Jan was upset. Nobody at Spurs knew about Jan’s hidden submissive nature. Even Mousa, who was one of his best and oldest friends-- he knew that Jan was bisexual, but Jan hadn’t quite been able to bring himself to tell Mousa the rest.

But he’d never really had that sort of talk with Toby. So there was no way he could even begin to explain what was going on with him now.

But Toby didn't care. That was the amazing thing. Toby didn't know exactly why Jan was upset, but it didn't matter. His stubborn refusal to leave Jan alone in his self-loathing was Toby's way of showing Jan that he didn't care that Jan had fucked up. Didn't care what had happened, on the pitch or off. What Toby did care about, was Jan. 

Toby was saying, without saying it, that he planned to stick by Jan. He didn't plan on giving him a hard time, or asking him to talk about anything he didn't want to. If Jan did need to talk, he had no doubt Toby would listen, but he likely wouldn't push Jan. That wasn't Toby's style. He would simply be there.

Toby's hold didn't ease until Jan's breathing returned to normal and the tension had gone out of his shoulders. Toby kept his arm where it was, though the grip was gentle now, and Jan let himself lean into his friend.

They stayed like that for most of the coach ride back to Enfield, not talking, letting their proximity say what needed to be said.

  
  
  


***

"Is Sophie still in Amsterdam?"

Jan almost didn't hear the question, voiced in Toby's low rumble, almost indistinguishable from the background noise. His mind was far away from his surroundings and it took a moment to sink in that Toby had spoken to him at all.

"What? Oh-- yes. She'll be there a few more days." Sophie had taken their daughter to visit with her parents.

Toby grunted. "All right then. You want to come over to my place or should I come to yours?"

Jan blinked in surprise. "What?"

Toby gave him that stony stare. "You don't need to be alone tonight," he said flatly.

"You don't have to do that--" Jan began, somewhat weakly.

Toby snorted. "Yes, I do."

Jan pressed the heels of his hand to his forehead. He was tired and suddenly didn't feel like fighting Toby on this.

"Fine, whatever. I'm going home. If you want to come with me that's up to you."

"Cool."

  
  
  
  


***

When Jan made his way out to the carpark, he had a moment of hope that he had managed to evade Toby after all. He was nowhere in sight when Jan quickly unlocked his car and slipped into the driver's seat.

"What took you so long?" Toby asked from the backseat.

Jan jumped. "Fuck," he hissed. "How did you get in here?"

Toby just laughed at him. "I thought you had given up on asking me stupid questions like that."

Jan sighed and started the car.

  
  
  
  


***

They pulled up in Jan's driveway about an hour later, armed with some takeout from his favorite Thai restaurant. They had gone through the same argument as always about what to get. Toby always got the same seafood curry, while Jan usually got pineapple fried rice. The only problem was that Toby always stole a ridiculous amount of Jan's dinner-- and he couldn't even get even, because he hated mussels. 

"You are a pain in the ass, do you know that?" Jan said casually as they went inside.

Toby just shrugged. 

They ate in mostly comfortable silence. Jan was still trying to fight off that nagging voice in the back of his mind. He didn't even notice when Toby stole the last chunk of his pineapple right off his plate.

"All right," Toby said finally.

Jan looked at Toby dully. The fatigue and stress were starting to take effect on him. "All right what?"

"I wasn't going to ask, but you're not going to give me anything this time, are you?"

"Toby, I really don't want to talk about it."

"That's too bad. I've seen you make worse mistakes than that before and not been this bad off. Even ones that gave away goals. So… what is it?"

"I don't know."

"That's bullshit and you know it, my friend."

Jan gritted his teeth. He was starting to lose his grip on the situation. "Toby, this time I just can't, okay?"

"Why not? We've never had something that we _couldn't_ talk about before. What's the problem?"

"I just fucking _can't,_ Toby," Jan shouted. His voice rang in the quiet house, louder than he intended.

Toby fell silent at that. Jan refused to look at him for several minutes, angry that he was fighting back tears for at least the third time that day. _What the fuck is wrong with me?_

Finally Toby cleared his throat. "It won't make any difference," he mumbled, his normally confident tone gone. He sounded tired… and sad?

"What?" Jan's voice was rough.

Toby ran a hand through his hair. "Whatever it is that you're scared of. It won't make any difference to me. I thought you knew that."

Jan laughed, but it came out choked. "You can't say that if you don't know what it is."

Toby shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe you're right, maybe it's some terrible dark secret. All I know is, you're my friend and I can't think of any dark secret that could change that."

Jan's vision blurred. He had lost the battle with the tears that he'd been fighting all day, but he didn't care anymore. Letting them slip down his face was the first thing since he had given Palace that goal that felt like relief.

Toby studied his hands awkwardly and waited.

Finally Jan wiped his face and took a deep breath. "Do you remember… before Sophie and I were together?"

"Yes." Toby looked puzzled.

"I don't know how much you ever knew about what I got up to back then." Jan coughed softly, his cheeks reddening.

Toby's brows were drawn together. "What do you mean, what you got up to? You were barely an adult when you came to Ajax, what sort of trouble could you have gotten into that young?"

"Not trouble. Not exactly. I just, um, explored Amsterdam."

The furrow in Toby's brows deepened. "You explored Amsterdam," he said doubtfully.

"Yes. Including some parts of it that I'd rather the press didn't get wind of now."

"What, did you go visit the prostitutes? That's not that unusual, Jan. And why would that be bothering you now?"

"I'll get there. It wasn't so much that I went to some of those places as… what I did there."

Toby's eyebrows now appeared to be trying to merge with his hairline. Jan felt himself blushing.

"Okay, you got into some of the kinky shit, eh? I still don't see the problem. You're not the first footballer to be into weird shit and you won't be the last."

"Toby, for fuck's sake."

"Sorry."

"So the only reason that this is relevant now is that one of the things that I tried there and really liked was," he coughed again, almost inaudibly, "domination."

"Well, that kind of makes sense, you're definitely bossy enough for it--"

Jan coughed again, louder this time, to cut Toby off. "That's not what I meant."

Toby looked lost for a moment, but he worked out what Jan was trying to get at soon enough, and he actually _blushed._

"You mean you like… letting…?"

Jan nodded.

"Okay. Setting aside how much sense that _doesn't_ make, I still don't see the problem."

Jan gave up. "Toby, how much do you know about people who like to be submissive?" His cheeks were burning now but he kept his eyes on Toby's.

"Well…"

"So one of the things you may not know is that some subs like to be punished when they feel like they've been bad, or something." He paused, but there was no response to that.

"But for some, it's more of a need than just a desire. Some subs have a hard time keeping their composure if they aren't able to have someone punish them when they've been bad. Or made a bad mistake."

Toby's cheeks were pink as what Jan was saying sank in, but he pressed on gamely. "So… you're upset because you think you screwed up, and you haven't been punished, is that it?"

Jan let out a breath that he hadn't been aware he was holding. "Pretty much, yep. I haven't had anyone do that kind of thing for me in a long time."

"Sophie won't do it?"

"She tried. It's just not something she can do."

"No, I suppose it doesn't seem like something that would be in her wheelhouse." 

They both fell silent for a few minutes, Toby staring at the ceiling thoughtfully. Jan couldn't believe he'd actually come out and said it, though Toby had always been someone he was able to open up to.

Finally Toby took a deep breath. "So… what kind of punishment do you need?"

"Toby, you don't have to keep asking--"

"Shut _up_ and answer the question." Toby made a face at Jan to say that he knew that that technically didn't make sense.

Jan bit back an inane giggle. "Um… I don't know. Some people go in for some fairly heavy stuff, but I didn't really do a ton of exploring there."

Toby's face was still pink, but he pressed on. "Okay, but if you picture being… punished… for this, what's it look like?"

Jan closed his eyes. He had an image in mind, all right, but he wasn't sure he could ever bring himself to describe it to Toby. They had so far managed to talk about his need for submission without getting into the sexual aspect, but Jan had hit a wall. If he told Toby he liked to be spanked until he came, his friend's head might explode.

"Jan?" Toby prompted him.

Jan shook his head. "Tobes, I can't tell you that."

Toby looked annoyed. "I thought we'd gotten past that."

"You do remember that sex is mixed up with all this, right? I'm worried I'll give you an aneurysm."

"Jan, would you grow up? Believe it or not, I do know a little bit about that sort of thing. You're not going to shock my delicate sensibilities just 'cause you like to be spanked or whatever."

"I--" Jan couldn't get any actual words out. 

"Wait, is that it? Are you panicking over admitting you like to be spanked? That's about the most vanilla thing you could be into, you ninny."

Jan had to laugh. "Okay, maybe so, but when you carjacked me, did you expect me to tell you that I was upset because I didn't have anyone to spank me and tell me I'd been bad?"

Toby laughed too. "I guess not."

They fell silent for a while after that. It was more comfortable than before, but Jan was still twisting inside, thinking about just how much he did crave it. Talking about it had helped, but it didn't change anything-- Jan still needed something he didn't have any way to get.

"Is that… I mean… can I do it?"

Jan blinked and looked at his friend. Toby's cheeks were still rosy, but his enormous blue eyes were earnest and fixed on Jan's.

Jan snickered. "Very funny."

"Don't laugh at me. I'm being serious."

"Toby, you don't have to--"

"Will you shut _up_ with that? I know I don't have to."

"But then why…?"

"Jan, is it so hard to believe that maybe I _want_ to?"

Jan was speechless. Toby almost looked surprised at himself.

"I mean, you're my friend and I want to help you. If this is what you need, then I want to do it."

"Oh. Oh, sure." Jan's heart was still pounding in his ears, but he felt strangely let down. For a second, he had thought Toby had been saying that he wanted… well, Jan. 

But this was fine too. "I mean… if you're sure?"

Toby nodded. He had his "determined Toby" face on now, the one he usually wore right before they ran onto the pitch. "I'm sure. Should we… um… should we go into your bedroom?"

"Sure." Neither of them moved for a moment. They eyed each other, conscious of the tension that was thick between them.

Jan led the way silently. He wasn't sure at all how to feel about this. Yes, Sophie had told him he should try to find what he needed with someone else. She was meeting up with someone she used to date in Amsterdam, after all. They were testing the open relationship thing that they had decided to try.

No, he decided. He wasn't feeling awkward here because of Sophie. He knew she would be happy if he was able to get what he needed here. It was awkward because it was Toby.

Toby, who'd been one of his best friends since they had been half-grown boys at Ajax together. Toby, who'd never given any sign of not being 100% straight. Toby, with the public image of the tough guy, with his tattoos and his hair and his defense record. Toby, who was secretly the biggest dork Jan had ever met, who giggled and stole Jan's pineapple and bullied him into feeling better, who wrapped himself around his friends in the squishiest, most enormous hugs in the world. Toby, who was somehow both a brick wall _and_ as soft as a marshmallow.

Toby, who had followed him into the bedroom, with a strange look in his eyes, who was breathing a little harder than he should be.

Toby.

They stopped and looked at each other. "Um," said Toby. "So now what? Do you… do you need to take off your clothes?"

Jan twitched uncomfortably. "Toby," he managed. "This… if this is going to work, you really have to stop asking me what to do. That's… kind of the point."

Toby blushed. "Oh. Sorry… sorry." He pushed his hands through his sculpted hair and took a deep breath. "So you're okay with me.. um… taking over?"

Jan nodded mutely.

Toby sucked in another deep breath and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Okay. Then…" He swallowed. "Then take your clothes off."

It didn't have much force, as a command went, but it still sent a little thrill through Jan. He automatically moved to obey, pulling off his jumper in one motion, then his tee shirt. He wasn't trying to make it sensual at all, just get them off as efficiently as possible. When his shirt was off though, he caught sight of Toby's face. His cheeks were still tinged with what Jan was starting to worry was a permanent blush, but his eyes… his eyes were suddenly hot. They were fixed on Jan's bared torso, taking in his chest, his arms, all of it, as if he'd never seen Jan before.

Jan couldn't help himself. He tensed, just a little, to highlight the definition of his muscles. Toby's lips were slightly parted and Jan almost thought he saw him lick them, just a bit.

Jan lowered his eyes again, suddenly much more interested in the process of undressing than he had been. He took his time undoing his belt, sliding his fingers caressingly over the metal of the buckle, slipping the leather through the loops on his jeans, coiling the belt around his fist. He suddenly had a mental picture of Toby using the belt on him and for a moment he thought he might fall over.

He carefully set the belt down on his dresser, casually steadying himself against it as well. He had never been punished with anything but a hand before, and was a little scared of the idea, but his skin felt flushed and hot just from the image of it.

Jan took a deep breath and began to unbutton his jeans, careful to keep his eyes lowered. Toby could surely see by now just how much this was turning him on, and he wasn't sure he dared look at his friend's face. He took his time lowering the zipper on his jeans, suddenly very aware that he and Toby were about to cross a line, one that they couldn't un-cross. Maybe they had crossed it already. He couldn't pretend he wasn't scared, yet he was glad, too. Glad that it was Toby, who he did trust, more than just about anyone other than Sophie or his family.

He could hear Toby breathing, heavier than usual. "Don't stop," he said, his voice husky.

Jan realised he had paused with the zipper halfway down. As before, his hands started moving again automatically. He got the zipper down and began to ease his jeans down over his hips. He turned away from Toby as he slid the jeans down his legs, deliberately giving him a good look at his ass as he bent down to pull them off over his feet.

He heard the rumble of Toby's voice, but couldn't make out any actual words. Then there was a large hand on his hip.

 _"Jan,"_ he said, his voice thick. "Shit. I never… fuck, I've seen you take your clothes off a thousand times before, but I've never…" he groaned. "You're so fucking hot."

Then the hand on his hip was gone. "Stand up and look at me."

Jan obeyed, flushed with heat. He faced Toby, wearing nothing but a snug pair of navy boxers. He was completely hard and there was no hiding it anymore.

He lifted his eyes to look at his friend, as he'd been told to do. Toby had taken a step back from him and was now just out of arm's reach. His shoulders were heaving as if he'd just played a full ninety minutes, his eyes wide, running all over Jan. And unless Jan was very much mistaken, it appeared that he was hard as well.

"Lose the shorts too."

Jan shivered, but obeyed, quickly slipping his boxers down and kicking them to the side, trying to avoid letting himself linger on the knowledge that Toby was staring at his cock now, that he was naked with his best friend, in a completely different context than the casual nudity of the changing room.

"Hmm," Toby said, sounding thoughtful. "Maybe… maybe you should… get on the bed. Um, on your hands and knees." 

"Yes, Toby," Jan whispered, doing as he was told.

He heard Toby make a faint choking sound at that.

"Good. Stay… stay like that. Close your eyes."

The bed dipped with Toby's weight as he slid onto it. He took up a position kneeling next to Jan.

"Are you ready?"

Jan nodded, exhaling slowly.

The first slap actually startled Jan. He had known it was coming, of course, but it still felt like it had come out of nowhere. He jumped.

"Shit, sorry. Was that too hard?"

"No," Jan whispered. "Just surprised me is all. Maybe… could you talk to me, while...?"

"Oh." Toby was silent for a moment and Jan could almost hear him processing that idea. "Okay…"

Toby breathed in and out a few times. "Okay," he repeated. "Here goes."

Another slap, a little softer this time, right as he said "goes."

 _"Jan,"_ he murmured. "I can't believe this is what you're into. Do you have any idea how fucking hot you look right now?" He brought his hand down, on the other cheek this time. Jan sighed softly in response, his skin tingling.

"You play the part well, always so composed, always in control. But you're not in control now, are you?" His hand connected again, sharply enough to make a loud _smack._

"I said, _are_ you?" _Smack._

"No, Toby," Jan breathed.

"That's right, you're not. Who's in control right now?" _Smack._

"You are, Toby."

"That's right. And I'm going to make sure you get--" _Smack._ "--what's coming to you."

Jan whimpered.

"You fucked up today, didn't you?" _Smack._

"Yes," Jan practically sobbed.

"You should know better, shouldn't you?" _Smack._

"Yes, Toby…"

"Yeah, you really should. You were lucky that H and Dele and Nacer were able to score and save your ass. You know that, don't you?" _Smack._

"Yes, Toby."

"Well, except I suppose they didn't save your ass in the most literal sense, did they? I'd say your ass is definitely paying the price."

He brought his hand down again, slightly harder. He seemed to be getting the hang of it and was starting to experiment with how he positioned his hand and how much force he used. _Smack._

Jan moaned in response, feeling his cock throb as Toby's hand made contact.

"Fuck, you're really into this, aren't you? Such a naughty boy." _Smack._

Jan let out another low moan, more desperate. He was trying to stay still, but he couldn't help arching his back a bit, trying to lift his hips up to meet Toby's hand each time it came down.

"Imagine if the team could see you now, eh?" _Smack._

Jan made a noise that was once a moan, but came out strangled.

"Would you like that, hmm? For everyone to see you like this, all needy? On your hands and knees for me?" _Smack._

"Toby…" Jan couldn't possibly have come up with an actual response, so he settled for putting everything into his name, drawing it out and ending with a whimper. Toby kept bringing his hand down in different spots, covering every centimetre of Jan's ass.

"That's right. You needed me to punish you, didn't you? Tell you what a bad boy you've been?" _Smack._

"Yes, Toby," Jan panted. He couldn't keep still anymore. He was squirming, his hips rocking, grinding against nothing, arching to meet Toby's touch. Heat was building up inside him, deep in his belly. He felt like he was going to fly apart.

"You like that, huh? You like the way I spank you? Hmm, I don't know. This is supposed to be punishment, what good is it if you're enjoying yourself?" _Smack._ This one was lighter, more of a tap than anything.

 _"Please,_ Toby," Jan begged. "Please don't stop…"

"Hmm… but you look like you're enjoying this too much. That would almost make it a reward, wouldn't it?" This time Toby brushed Jan's buttocks with the pads of his fingertips, barely making contact at all. Jan's skin was so sensitive at this point, though, that even that tiny touch sent a wave of pleasure through him.

"I don't think you've earned a reward, do you?"

"Toby, _please,"_ Jan pleaded.

"Would you like to earn the rest of your spanking, Jan?"

"Yes, yes, yes, Toby, anything, please."

Toby hummed thoughtfully. Jan opened his eyes and stole a glance at his friend. Toby's left hand was pressed over the bulge in his jeans, squeezing lightly.

"Maybe if you do something for me," he mused. "What do you think? What could you do for me?"

Jan licked his lips, which were a little dry from all his panting and moaning. "Toby, please, can I suck your dick? Please?"

"I suppose that would do." Jan could tell that Toby was playing this up, but he didn't care. "Go on, then."

Jan moved then, opening his eyes and turning to face Toby. His friend had a cocky smirk on his face, one that Jan knew well. It was a challenge, but hiding behind it was just a hint of uncertainty.

Jan lifted himself to his knees and reached out for Toby, nudging him to lie down on the bed. When he was laid out on his back, Jan bent over to mouth at his erection through the denim of his jeans. It felt enormous. Jan had seen Toby naked plenty of times, but never aroused.

Toby sighed at the heat from Jan's mouth and ran his fingers through Jan's hair.

Jan undid Toby's belt and got his jeans open fairly quickly, suddenly eager to touch Toby, to make him be the one to fall apart.

Jan sighed happily when he finally got Toby's dick out of his jeans. He was laid out on his stomach next to Toby now, completely ignoring his own cock trapped underneath him. He took Toby in one hand and stroked him gently.

"Jan, fuck," Toby muttered. He kept running his fingers through Jan's hair, over and over until it was a complete mess, digging his fingertips in to Jan's scalp just hard enough to feel good.

Jan kissed the tip of Toby's cock and put out his tongue to lick off the drop of precum that appeared. Then he opened his mouth and took Toby inside.

 _"Jan,"_ he heard Toby say. "Fuck…"

Jan hummed in response. He suddenly wanted to see if he could get Toby to say anything else or if that was the extent of his vocabulary when he was having his cock sucked.

Jan wasn't experienced at this, in any sense of the word, but he was determined to try. He had never let himself think about Toby this way before, but it was impossible to pretend that he wasn't attracted to him. He had no idea if this would ever go beyond tonight, but it didn't matter. If tonight was all they had, then he wanted to make Toby come so hard he couldn't stand up.

Jan went at Toby with a will, feeling hungry in a way that surprised him. He slid his mouth all over Toby's cock, snaking his tongue around every bit he could, moaning when Toby started to move his hips, sliding in and out of Jan's mouth.

"Fuck. Jan…" Toby groaned. He still had his hands in Jan's hair, carding it through his fingers, rubbing Jan's scalp gently. "So fucking good…"

Jan slid his hands around Toby's hips to squeeze his ass, pulling him closer. Jan knew that he wouldn't be able to take Toby down his throat without gagging, but the idea of trying was enough to make Jan feel like his brain was on fire.

Toby was moaning steadily now, still moving his hips just a bit, thrusting shallowly into Jan's mouth. Jan was bobbing his head eagerly, feeling proud of himself for making Toby come undone like this. But then the head of Toby's cock hit the back of Jan's throat and he had to pull off, gagging.

"Shit. Sorry," Toby gasped. "Are you okay?"

Jan nodded, coughing. "I'm sorry," he said weakly, wiping his face. "Not my sexiest moment."

"I don't care," Toby said, panting. "That was fucking amazing."

Jan frowned. "I still haven't earned my reward, though."

"No," Toby agreed. "You haven't."

Jan eyed him thoughtfully. Toby's cock was still slick with his saliva. Jan wrapped a hand around it and gave it a firm, squeezing tug, liking how easily it slid through his fist.

Toby's head fell back onto the bed with a moan. "Ah, fuck, yes…"

This was much easier. After all, Jan had a lifetime of experience stroking his own cock. He slid his hand up and down Toby just as readily as if he were trying to bring himself off, enjoying how frantic Toby's moans were getting as he picked up the pace.

In a moment of inspiration, Jan reached into Toby's boxers with his other hand to cup and caress Toby's balls.

 _"Fuck,_ Jan! Oh my god, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuuuuck…" Toby's voice rose to a shout as he came crashing over the edge. Jan marvelled at the way he could feel the cum surging up Toby's cock to spill out over the top of Jan's fist, coating his entire hand and dripping onto Toby's boxers.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Toby chanted as he came down, his hands pressed to his forehead. "Jan. Fuck. Jan."

Jan giggled. He couldn't help it. "Interesting. Never would have thought that your vocabulary would be the first thing to go during sex."

"What?" Toby panted, his eyes closed, a lazy smile on his face.

"It just seemed like you forgot how to say much of anything there for a bit, except for _fuck_ and my name."

Toby blushed. "Shut up, Jan."

Jan just grinned at his friend. "Now then, about that reward…?"

Toby laughed and sat up, tucking himself back into his clothes and handing Jan a tissue to wipe his hand off. "I guess you did earn it, even if not quite how you were supposed to. Back on your hands and knees, then."

Jan obediently shifted back to his earlier position, eager to feel Toby's hand on his skin again.

The touch that came was gentle, though, not rough. Toby stroked the skin of Jan's bottom tenderly, running his fingers carefully over the hot, sensitive skin.

Jan whimpered, trying to keep still.

"Jan," Toby said. "Have you been punished enough for that stupid goal yet?"

Jan hung his head, breathing steadily while he thought. The earlier spanking had, in fact, mostly driven out the feeling of transgression that had been choking him all day. Being allowed to take care of Toby's needs had been wonderful, too. He felt fairly calm now, having satisfied his need to be punished and his need to serve. That just left his rather obvious physical need.

"I… feel better, yes. But if you think I need to be punished more--"

Toby was shaking his head. "That's not what I mean. I just… I don't know. I'd kind of like to just focus on making you feel good now, without it having to be a punishment."

Jan moaned, pushing his reddened ass against Toby's hand. "You can do whatever you want with me," he murmured. 

"Well, fuck," Toby muttered. He ran his hands over Jan's ass again, firmer this time. "Do you like this, Jan? You seem so sensitive."

"Yes," Jan sighed.

Toby made a thoughtful sound, slapping Jan's ass lightly. Jan couldn't bite back his moan as Toby's hand made contact with his skin.

And then Toby's hands were everywhere, sliding all over Jan's ass, squeezing, digging his fingers into the warm, glowing flesh. Jan's eyes rolled back into his head. He knew he was moaning and babbling incoherently but he didn't care.

"Toby," he whispered. "Toby."

"You like that?"

"Yes. Yes. More. Please, more…"

Toby leaned forward and slid one of his hands forward, around Jan's hip, and then Toby's hand, large and warm, was on Jan's cock, squeezing and stroking him while the other hand was kneading his ass firmly.

"Toby… _Toby,_ fuck…"

Jan couldn't keep still anymore. He wanted to push his hips forward to slide his cock through Toby's fist, but he also wanted to push his ass back into Toby's other hand. He couldn't possibly take much more of this.

"Jan, you're shaking. Do you need to come?"

"Yes, Toby, please… can I? Please?"

 _"Fuck,"_ he muttered. "Yes, Jan, you go right ahead. Come on…"

He slid his hand firmly over the head of Jan's cock, his palm slick with precum, and Jan exploded. He had no idea what he may have said, or moaned, or screamed. He lost track of everything as he came, harder than he had in years.

When Jan finally opened his eyes again, he discovered that he was lying on his back, for some reason. Toby was sitting quietly next to him, his eyes trained on Jan's face.

"Fuck," he heard Toby mutter. He sounded far away. "Jan. That was… that was unbelievable."

Jan made an indeterminate noise. He was a ways off from being able to speak again. He blinked his eyes sleepily. Toby was looking at him with an oddly affectionate smile on his face.

"Thank you," Toby murmured.

Jan blinked again, confused. He was the one who should be thanking Toby, not the other way around, surely?

He wanted to say so, to thank Toby for what he had done for him today, but Jan had finally reached his limit. He took a deep breath, intending to say something, but instead he simply fell asleep.

***

Jan woke up a few hours later to find himself in bed, still naked, but with the covers drawn over him and the lights turned out.

He yawned and rolled over, content to go back to sleep, and discovered Toby fast asleep next to him in the bed. Toby appeared to be sleeping in his tee shirt and boxers, and he had washed the gel from his hair. Jan could just see the outline of his face in the little bit of moonlight that was coming in through the window. He looked somehow vulnerable.

Jan smiled at his friend and let himself drift back off.

***

  
  
  


By the time Jan woke up in the morning, Toby had gone. 

_> >From: Toby A [06:53]: Took a cab to get my car. Sorry didn't say bye  
_ _> >From: Toby A [07:12]: Had fun. Don't think we should make a habit of it tho_

_ <<To: Toby A [09:46]: Sure. And thanks, Toby. _

_ >>From: Toby A [09:53]: Any time, bro. _

**Author's Note:**

> So when I started writing this, I intended it to be a flashback to something that happened before the events of I Could Live a Little More. But the more I wrote of it the more I realized a lot of the details don't match up. So... is this canon? Did Jan forget that this happened? Who knows. I had fun writing it anyway. XD


End file.
